That's not to say it's been a bad month. Just very long. Like 5 c-sections, 7 vaginal deliveries (only 2 in the daytime, thank you for that, my sadistic little vampire babies), way too many scopes, and just a lot of the usual mess of stuff on my desk. That kind of long. Like when the phone rang after midnight last night, I started thinking bad words in my head. (But you know the rule, right? NEVER ever say those bad words to the nurses. They are making my life better by being awake all night, taking care of patients so I don't have to drag my lumpy butt to the hospital. And if there are nurses out there -- you know the gig: Crummy interactions with grumpy doctor = q1 hour phone calls until she cries uncle. Proud to say that's never happened to me, but I've seen it with colleagues.)

So the last thing I've wanted to do this month is edit, but slow page by page, I've slogged back through the first 50 pages of Dante's Inferno. I entered a few more contests, some for Hell to Pay, but more for Dante's Inferno, mostly because I really appreciate the feedback. I'd love to get the book as strong as possible before going out to agents/publishers.

I was feeling pretty good about my efforts. Until I got a critique back I had forgotten I'd requested. I had sent in 10 pages or so to PN Elrod who is doing professional level critiques and in return the author donates to her dog's vet bills. Sounded like a good cause. (If you're interested, the website is: http://www.vampwriter.com/CRITIQUE.htm)  Well, I sent in an admittedly rough early version of The Lesser Evil and she called it out in no uncertain terms. And I deserved it. Even though I'd already fixed many of her concerns (I'd sent it a few months ago and just figured it was so rough she declined to even look at it), the insight into the characters' motivation really got some creative juices flowing again, despite the birthing-baby fatigue.

So even though it was the last thing I thought I wanted to do, this critique re-energized me this weekend. I've worked on The Lesser Evil all day today and got excited about it again! PN Elrod said the critique would be a "brick in the face" and she did not lie. But it did get my proverbial butt off the chair (or IN the chair as the case might be) in the best possible way!

Usually I'm not one for feeling overly intimidated. At least not in my day job. At least not anymore. Heck, last week I cut a human out of another human, which I have to admit never gets old. (And mother and baby are doing just fine. Baby has a massive shock of black hair that sticks straight up in every direction. So stinkin' cute. All my babies are cute. And if they're not, there's always something nice to say, like "Would you just look at that little nose" or "Those are some big feet" or "What a cute bald head"  -- even if they come out looking like a squished lizard, one should always say something nice. But I digress.)

So I've faced life and death, cried with folks in joy and sorrow, laughed at the insanity of life and medicine. I've pulled diagnoses out of places where the sun doesn't shine to come up with esoteria like "leukocyte adhesion deficiency" or "pityriasis versicolor" (got that one today) or "gamekeeper's thumb" (today, too -- I was busy) or "bicornuate uterus" (yup, today, it was nuts in the office) -- which by the way, if you didn't know, bicornuate uterus is not nearly as cool as "uterus didelphys" because what's more awesome than 1 uterus+cervix? How about TWO? Like, which one do you do the PAP smear on or check for dilation? Or, even better, what if, in a small town in Appalachia, you start seeing folks that don't have a cervix? (true experience) Faster than you can say "A Fish Called Wanda," boom, you've got your own pocket (no pun intended) of testicular feminization.

Again, I digress. It's been a heckuva day.

Ok, then. Decent at the whole medicine thing. But this writing thing? It's pretty intimidating, which I haven't really felt since being pimped on surgery rounds a million years ago. ("Pimped" is not a hooker word, it's a student/intern/resident make-you-look-stupid word.) Like the two contests I have "finaled" in. I worked my ample keister off getting those manuscripts polished up as shiny as possible. But then paranoia sets in. I look on the finalist list and see the same name alongside mine. And then I look back to other contests and see that same name. Over and over again. Often winning.

Now, please understand, I do not know who the author Jennifer Hover is. I have zero beef with Ms. Hover, and it's very likely that she is the nicest person on Earth, probably tats her children's clothes, makes origami in her spare time, reads to the blind, grows her own heirloom vegetables, bakes homemade bread, rescues puppies, all while writing volumes of awesome paranormal romance. As a matter of fact, karma being what it is, I'm nearly certain Ms. Hover is all this and probably a size 4 uber cool chick with permanently awesome hair who also guides the Dahli Lama to eternal enlightenment, all just because I'm a super dork. And yeah, I'll say it, there's a little green eyed monster going on here. But seeing that name over and over just works on a girl. I'm like, ok, this Hover chick has won stuff for the past I-don't-know-how-many years. So my chances are….zilch?  Sure, I tell patients all the time that "There is always hope." So I get the gist of that sentiment. But realistically here in this literary situation? Nuh uh.

So, then, there's nothing to do but keep plodding along, writing the stuff that rolls around in my head, even though "paranormal doesn't sell" (tell that to my Amazon account, ha). That's cool. But in the interest of public safety, it's never a good idea for me ever to be bored. Ever. Therefore, it's back to writing more stories, spinning more tales. And -- even if it's just for my own amusement -- peppering the tomes with obscure medical factoids and flavors. Just because it makes me happy. And maybe one day, it'll make someone else happy. Or at least give them something to help win a game of trivial pursuit. Either way, it's a win.

Ok, so things got even better this week! I received an email from Toronto Romance Writers -- Hell to Pay is a finalist in the paranormal category of their Catherine Contest! Even better, these folks give you time to revise the entry to submit for final judging by agents or editors in the industry. FANtastic.

Lucky me, I did not final in the TARA (Tampa Area Romance Authors) contest. I truly do mean lucky, because TARA returned judging critiques in time for me to use that feedback for the Catherine. (Wish I had it before the Sheila finalist entry submitted, but it's my bad not to think of those great judges' comments and questions.)

Is this a trait of all writers or just neurotic ones -- to >think< the manuscript is "as good as it can get"? Until someone else points out very good suggestions or holes or ways to improve the work. I so appreciate the judges in all of the contests I've entered, as all of the combined feedback has been so thoughtful. And all of those comments, looking at the manuscript from different angles, all of that has improved the work beyond anything I could have done on my own.

Don't know what the future holds with Hell to Pay, but I am certainly grateful for more opportunities than I have ever had to get this book to market. Maybe one day someone will even buy it….! (Yes, I know, that's just crazy talk.)

One of the hardest things to do is keep submitting entries, keep pushing. I just want to take a break. But there's a sense of "strike while the iron is hot" right now. Speaking of hot, Dante's Inferno will start going out for contests soon and I look forward to the judges' comments so I can make it a stronger novel. And I'm only midway through the second (and definitely not the last) revision of The Lesser Evil. I'm amazed how authors crank out multiple books per year or work on multiple series at the same time and maintain their sanity.

How do writers work in this industry and have a non-writing day job? How? I have rounds at 6:30 and 25 patients tomorrow starting at 7:30. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do (medicine AND writing). But it's now time to flip the right-brain/left-brain switches again so I don't kill a patient writing a prescription in iambic pentameter…. ("There once was a drug called Viagra, whose side effects reached out and grabbed ya…..")